


Frisky February 2020

by ThrowTheDice



Series: slashthedice Events [4]
Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Black Christmas (1974), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Breeding, Choking, Cockwarming, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Knives, Multi, Reader-Insert, Smut, Somnophilia, Spanking, Wax Play, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrowTheDice/pseuds/ThrowTheDice
Summary: A collection of short pieces from the Frisky February event I hosted on tumblr.
Series: slashthedice Events [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191398
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	1. Calendar and Prompts

  1. Dirty Talk 
  2. Choking
  3. Breeding 
  4. Spanking
  5. Aftercare 
  6. Somnophilia 
  7. Cockwarming 
  8. Wax Play 
  9. Consensual Non-Consent
  10. Double Penetration
  11. Knives
  12. Stuffing
  13. Thigh Riding
  14. Breast Worship
  15. Orgasm Denial
  16. Blood
  17. First Time
  18. Threesome
  19. Bondage
  20. Video Taping
  21. Leather or Lace
  22. Collar/Leash
  23. Oral
  24. Panty Stealing
  25. Daddy/Mommy
  26. Electricity
  27. Role Play
  28. Exhibition
  29. Degradation




	2. Day 1: Dirty Talk (DBD Ghost Face)

It had started as little more than a passing interest. He was new to your neighborhood, unloading boxes and his suitcase from a used Ford Taurus. It wasn’t often someone new moved to you sleepy little neighborhood, and even less often that they were younger than 75 and didn’t come with some sort of live-in aid, but this new guy seemed to be a man in his prime. If you had had to guess, you would have placed him somewhere between 32 and 37 years old, average height, average weight. He had dark hair that was somewhat disheveled from the move, and even from your front stoop as you shuffled your groceries around to get your keys you could see the shadow or scratchy stubble on his chin and jaw.

You watched him stumble over the curb as he struggled to see around a box so comically large that you fleetingly wondered how he fit it in his little sedan at all. You shoved your keys in the lock, yanked your door open, and placed your paper grocery bags just inside before bounding out the door and across your yard towards the struggling man. He didn’t see you approach, and you heard him grunt as he adjusted his grip.

“Here, let me help,” you called, sliding in behind the box and taking some of its weight.

“Thanks,” he chirped, craning his neck to see who his rescuer was. “Shoulda used a smaller box.”

His voice was rough, strained from the effort, but not nearly so much as you would have expected. You felt him adjust the weight before pushing onwards. The two of you maneuvered the box up the porch steps and you nudged the front door open with your hip.

“Where do you want it?” You asked, looking around the barren entryway.

“Here’s fine.”

The box thumped against the hardwood floor, settling itself with the sound of worn cardboard and crinkling of whatever he had used to pack the items held within.

“It’s been a while since we had anyone new in the neighborhood,” you said with a friendly smile.

You saw the corner of his mouth quirk upwards and he chuckled, but his eyes remained locked on you. “My job tends to take me interesting places. What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, asking his forgiveness for the oversight. “And what about you? What’s your name?”

“Jed Olsen.”

“What sort of job brings you to Roseville of all places?” The way you asked was light, teasing. It wasn’t every day a handsome man moved in next door.

His eyes flickered across your features, and if you hadn’t known better you would have thought you saw his lopsided smile falter. Just a quickly, however, the good natured smirk and lighthearted air was back. “Roseville Gazette. I’m a reporter.”

In a moment of boldness, you quickly offered, “If you want to grab dinner or something sometime, I’d be happy to show you around.”

You felt your cheeks flair with heat as soon as the words left your mouth. The guy hadn’t even moved in yet and here you were asking him to dinner. Smooth. Real smooth.

Jed licked his lips, and you wondered if it was from nerves or anticipation. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Your relationship with Jed Olsen was a whirlwind. Everything happened so fast you could hardly keep up. One night you were taking him to the little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant on the corner of mainstreet, and a couple nights after you found yourself bent over the counter in his newly unpacked kitchen clinging to whatever you could as he thrust into you from behind. Before you knew it, evenings such as that had become a regular occurrence.

A few weeks later, you were home alone when the phone rang. You glanced at the clock beside your bed, groaning when you saw that it was a quarter to midnight. Who in their right mind would call at this time.

“Hello?” You answered, barely withholding the annoyance that threatened to bleed into your voice.

“Hmmm,” a familiar voice purred. “You sound tired.”

You couldn’t help the smile that split your face. “That’s what happens when strange men call me in the middle of the night.”

“Ouch.”

“So,” you sighed. “What’re you up to? Breaking news?”

“I was thinking about you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “Were you?”

You heard him groan, the sound sending sparks to your core. “I was thinking about that pretty mouth of yours.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling that oh so familiar heat pooling between your legs. 

Jed didn’t wait for your response. “I was thinking about throwing you down on your bed and fucking you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He finished the sentiment with a throaty moan and your mind was more than happy to conjure images of him in that beat up recliner of his, with the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder and a hand around his cock. You slid a hand down your abdomen, sneaking it beneath the waistband of your plain cotton panties. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were after only a handful of words from him.

“Or maybe you’d like it better if I used my mouth.”

You choked on a startled gasp. “Jed…”

“Would you like that? If I put my tongue in that sweet little cunt of yours? I could eat you all day, just to make you scream. I’m going to make you come so hard, baby.”

You moaned, fingers brushing across your soaked lower lips. “Jed, please…”

“That’s right,” his breathing was heavy, weighty through the crackling phone line. “I want to hear you beg.”

“I want you. Please, Jed.”

He ignored your pleading, continuing his heated narration. “Are you touching yourself for me? Thinking about how good I can make you feel? You wish those were my fingers on your clit. Do you want me to come over there and fuck you properly, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, the sound of your affirmation was almost a whine.

You heard him chuckle, husky rasp causing goosebumps to rise across your skin. 

“Be right over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	3. Day 2: Choking (Michael)

Michael had been mysteriously absent for the better part of the day. You had awoken in your bed that morning, unbothered and unmolested. Gotten up. Had breakfast. Spent some time watching TV and hanging out in your pajamas. Things had been simple, for a while you had enjoyed playing pretend at a normal life.

As morning faded into afternoon, and the midday light died off to make way for the cool tones of evening, you began to grow anxious. You felt that something was wrong. It was odd to not hear from Michael. At the very least you would have expected to feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your neck, stabbing through your body as surely as his knife one day would. You couldn’t help but to look over your shoulder every few minutes, hunting for a bone white mask in the shadows, or the frozen grey-blue eyes that pierced straight through you. When the evening gave way to the night, you gave in to your paranoia and decided to do something undoubtedly foolish:

You were going to find Michael.

You stood slowly, unfurling yourself from the perceived warmth and safety of the overstuffed couch cushions, swiveling your head back and forth as you surveyed the shadows obscuring the corners. A press of the remote’s power button silenced the television and killed your only light source. You were left in near total darkness, only the scant glow of the waning moon as it seeped through your shuttered windows granted you a prayer of seeing where you were going.

The house itself seemed to taunt you as you crept through the darkened halls. The floorboards creaked mockingly beneath your cautious feet, meanwhile the whole structure seemed to moan and whine as it was buffeted by the late winter wind. You didn’t dare turn on a light, didn’t dare give Michael that beacon.

Your hallway had never looked so dark and foreboding. Dread gathered in your throat, dripping downwards to weigh on your heart and lungs as you inched further into the inky blackness. Fear clawed at your mind, the burning cold of its cruel tendrils goading you, telling you to turn tail and flee like the prey you were. You knew he was close. Knew he was somewhere in the blackness. Watching. Waiting.

When you came to the open door of the small guest bathroom, you felt along the wall for the light switch. If he was in there waiting for you to stumble blindly into his hold, then the sudden light would maybe startle him long enough for you to run. You imagined you could hear the overwhelming sound of his stifled breathing. Your wandering fingers traversed the wallpaper, trembling more and more with each passing moment. At last they found their mark, and you flicked the switch with a fleeting feeling of victory.

You realized two things in the following moments: first, that the illuminated room before you was empty. Second, that the breathing you heard in your mind was not a conjuration of your frayed nerves, but was in fact terribly, horribly real and coming from directly behind you.

There was little to be done except yelp helplessly as you were shoved bodily into the bathroom. You stumbled over your own feet as the weight of the body behind you forced you forward. You hit the sink hard, porcelain digging into your abdomen. When you attempted to stand, your face was shoved into the mirror. A pelvis against your backside pinned you to the sink, and your scattered mind could not even begin to consider struggling.

You should have expected the rough hand that closed around your neck. Stars already twinkled and danced within the scope of your blurred vision, but as he increased pressure and  _ squeezed  _ you could have sworn you saw constellations. You tried to swallow, but the vice at your throat prevented that. No amount of gasping drew air into your deprived lungs. He could undoubtedly feel the frantic racing of your pulse, soon to slow and stop if he did not let you go.

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed, knowing that no amount of begging would save you. If he wanted to strangle the life from your pitifully weak and unresisting body, he would. “Michael… please.”

Over the rushing of blood in your ears, you could hear what sounded almost like frantic, moaning panting in your ear. With what little feeling you still retained, you felt the rutting of his hips and the heated grinding of his burning erection into your ass. Would you fall into unconsciousness before he came? Would he continue to choke you until you stopped moving altogether? Would he use you anyway?

As your vision began to darken, you felt his hand slide upward, fingers digging into your jaw but freeing up your airway. You gasped and choked on the sudden flood of air as you sought to stave off the blackness that encroached upon your mind. Relieved tears streamed from your wide, reddened eyes. You were ready to thank whatever deity, whatever cosmic force was listening. But as soon as you had begun to breathe normally again, his grip shifted and closed once more around your bruised throat. Tears sprung anew, spawned this time from dread. He could keep this up all night, you realized, but you doubted your body would be able to hold out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	4. Day 3: Breeding (Oni)

_ Honor. Bloodline. Legacy. _

Those words repeated themselves in your head. Their rhythm upheld by the rapid beat of your heart and the heavy sound of skin on skin. Your whole body was alight with sensation, even while the dim light and steamy air in the small room sent your head spinning. Your knees were sore and battered, splinters from the rough hewn floors piercing them as they lurched and rubbed against the boards. The palms of your hands were no better off, equally red and beginning to tingle beneath the strain of supporting your weight.

You knew there was no love between you, that was not why you were here. Kazan would shower you with whatever you wanted, but you were breeding stock. Nothing more. You had known from the instant that your eyes met his that everything from that moment on had led you here. Each minute, each second, each and every intake of breath had led to your body beneath his, the push and pull of his hips as he speared you upon his cock and raced onwards towards his climax.

Rough hands with strong, broad fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place while he pounded into you again, and again, and again. He was burning up, your body felt like it was being scorched everywhere he touched you. He was a wildfire come to life, and you could do little but allow his flames to consume you. And what a lovely way to burn it was.

He smelled of copper and soot. When he had put his fingers in your mouth they had tasted of sweat and iron. He was earthy and violent. A force of nature you could never hope to control or understand.

You felt like you were melting. Sweat poured from you, streaming down your face and dripping from your chin. Your limbs were jelly, and you were certain that Kazan was liquifying your insides with every stroke. You were a wax figure placed too close to the fire, and he was melting away all that you were to reform you in the image of what he needed. If something did not give soon, you would lose yourself to him.

But you were happy, you were so happy.

He came with a triumphant roar, hilting himself within you, the head of his cock jammed up against your cervix. You cried out as you felt his heat spilling within you. You could do nothing but tremble as he held you in place, lifting your hips further to prevent any of his seed from escaping. The room was silent except for the ragged sound of your breathing. Blood rushed in your ears, deafening as the torrent repeated those three words.

_ Honor. Bloodline. Legacy. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Day 4: Spanking (Trapper)

You yelped as a large palm came down hard on your bare backside. The sound reached your ears before the sharp sting had fully registered. You trembled as he raised his arm again, pinching your eyes shut as you prepared for his rough hand to meet your reddened flesh again.

Evan had never suffered teasing gladly. You knew exactly what buttons to push, and how to get him all riled up in a matter of seconds. This time, however, it seemed you had pushed him a touch too far. He had wiped the smug smirk off of your face in one fluid motion when he had spun you around, slung you across his lap, and dragged your pants and underwear down your thighs.

“When will you learn your lesson?” He growled, roughened voice sending shivers down your spine. “Behave.”

He punctuated the order with another forceful swat to your ass. This time when you vocalized at the pain, it sounded much more pleasured than was probably appropriate. You felt him hesitate.

He exhaled harshly. “You aren’t supposed to enjoy your punishment.”

You whined, rubbing your thighs together. He could chastise you all he wanted, but he couldn’t deny the unmistakable bulge you felt pressing into your hip. He was getting off on this just as much as you were. You wiggled under the guise of adjusting yourself across his thick thighs, rubbing purposefully against the swell of his cock.

You looked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I’m sorry, I promise to be good.”

You heard his breathing hitch and you knew you had him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
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	6. Day 5: Aftercare (Huntress)

You felt like you had been mauled by a bear. Every inch of your body was sore, muscles tense and aching. Your skin was painted in sweat, saliva, and cum. You were sprawled across roughly woven blankets and soft furs. The glow from the fire in the nearby hearth spread its warming fingers across your bareness. You felt exhausted, completely and incomparably worked over.

Your head lolled to the left as you looked at the woman beside you. A wide smile split Anna’s unmasked face. She appeared to glow as brightly as the flames that washed the area in tones of orange and red. You skimmed your gaze over her body as she lay there, utterly unfettered by her nudity. It seemed that there was not a single inch of her skin that was not marked by scars in some way. There was no denying that she had had a long and arduous life on her own. You wondered then, from where did her ability to be so heartbreakingly tender spring?

She noticed you staring, shifting and turning to lay on her side so that she might meet your gaze. Her grin never faltered. In fact, it only seemed to grow as she reached out to you and wiped away a bead of sweat as it rolled down the side of your face. You caught her hand with your own, turning to press your lips to the callous-roughened skin of her open palm. She let out a giggle at the feeling of your soft lips, and it was so girlish and sincere you felt your heart swell. You had seen this woman throw a hatchet into a person’s skull from fifty yards, had seen her tear through flesh and bone like wet paper, and had seen her drive an axe so far into someone’s chest you would have thought the two to be inextricable. Yet despite all that, she giggled like a schoolgirl when you kissed her. 

“You are tired.”

The words sounded like a statement, but you felt the need to answer anyways.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “You wore me out.”

You smiled sleepily and she returned the gesture easily. She sat up suddenly, reaching for something atop the large oak dining table. You watched her curiously, wondering what brought this on. She settled back down beside you, offering you a lopsided cup filled with water. You accepted it gladly, sighing contentedly after the cool liquid had soothed your parched throat. Anna took the now empty cup and set it back on the table before gathering you up in her arms. She cradled you to her chest, holding your head above her heart.

“Sleep,” she said, voice reverberating through your body.

You wrapped your weak arms around her, nuzzling closer and more than happy to embrace her warmth. She was solid and strong, a comforting presence in the dark, rain-soaked woods despite the blood that stained her hands. You would be sore in the morning, of that you were certain, but for the time being it was a simple thing to let yourself drift off to sleep within her hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	7. Day 6: Somnophilia (Billy Lenz)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sensitive topics and discussions of noncon.

Billy had been listening for the better part of the night, laying on the attic floor and peering through a crack in the floorboard. You smiled and laughed, and talked to the others easily. He wanted to make you squeal. He wanted to pry your legs apart and stick his face between them, to taste that pretty pink cunt of yours. He wanted to shove his cock down your throat and make you choke on it. He would love to hear you gag, to feel your nails scratch him as you tried to push him away, as you tried to breathe.

As the night wore on, the noise and activity died away. The house was sleeping. All of the sorority sisters were snug in their beds, blissfully unaware of how truly unsafe they were. Well, for tonight they were all safe. All except one.

Billy descended from the attic with a distinct lack of grace, but he was quiet enough not to rouse anyone. Your room was close to the attic entrance, tantalizingly close. Only a few hurried strides and he was standing outside your door, breathing heavily and imagining every twisted, wicked thing he wanted to do to you. He pushed the door open slowly, eyes narrowing on your form outlined in bedsheets and blankets. You were asleep. Unaware. Completely unconscious. Your pretty lips parted just slightly, lower lip poking out tantalizingly. Billy wanted to bite it.

He grabbed the edge of your quilt, dragging it slowly down your unsuspecting body. His heart pounded at an increasingly frantic tempo with each inch of skin that was revealed to him. His cock was already straining against the confines of his jeans, begging him to bury himself in the warmth between your enthralling thighs. Would you wake up when he did? Would you drag yourself from slumber to find him, a stranger, thrusting into you? He was nearly drooling as he thought of shoving your panties in your mouth before you could scream. He bet you would tense up and tighten around his length.

You shifted in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing as the cold nighttime air swept over your body. Billy froze in place, waiting to see if you would awaken. His wide eyes glistened with a predatory light in the dim glow of the moon. You took a deep breath, but continued to sleep.

His hands shook as he nearly ripped open his button and fly, adjusting his clothing just enough so that he could withdraw his aching cock and palm himself roughly. His breathing had grown ragged, and he briefly considered jerking himself off to completion, cumming all over your perfect, pretty face. He swept his ravenous eyes over the length of you, from your toes, up your bare legs, over every dip and curve, all the way up to the crown of your head. When he saw your face, something… happened.

In a single moment, your features shifted and changed. In a moment he was no longer looking at someone foreign, someone unknown who he had stalked and lusted over. No, this was someone familiar to him. All too familiar.

The bed dipped beneath his weight. He took your thighs in hand and spread them quickly to make room for his hips. As he settled himself over you, he saw your eyes flutter.

“Agnes,” he rasped, panting breaths filling the silence. “It’s me, Billy.”

Your eyes fluttered as his roughness roused you slowly. When they parted, revealing eyes that no longer looked familiar, the spectral face dissipated, leaving features that were no longer quite so familiar, but tantalizing nonetheless. Shock painted your features as the vestiges of sleep fell away. Your lips parted but no sound came out, voice dying in your throat. You tried to sit up quickly, but Billy was just as quick to throw his weight into you, pinning you with a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	8. Day 7: Cockwarming (Bubba)

Daytime was your favorite time of day. During the day, Nubbins scampered off to God knows where, Drayton worked at the gas station, and Grandpa was up in his room. Daytime left you and Bubba blessedly alone together. Some days allowed for less time spent together than others, chores still had to be completed and there were only so many hours in a day to get them done. Necessity is the mother of invention, however, and you found that the two of you could be very creative when push came to shove.

The spindle-legged dining chair groaned beneath the combined weight of its occupants. You found yourself with your dress hiked up over your hips, and your panties hung haphazardly from one ankle. You shifted in Bubba’s lap, drawing a plaintive whine from him. His arms were wrapped around your waist, forehead pressed into the space between your shoulderblades. You let out an uneven breath, clenching eagerly around the cock seated within your walls. Still, you had come to this solution in order to compromise closeness and choring. You had to focus, no matter how badly you wanted to turn around and ride Bubba properly.

The week’s laundry was piled before you on the dining table. You needed to fold them before the family arrived home for dinner, but distractions abounded. The sweet stretch of Bubba’s length inside of you, the feeling of his heavy breaths on your back, his trembling fingers plucking at the fabric bunched around your hips. You felt the way his thighs tensed, spreading your own and opening you up. You looked forlornly at the clothes you had folded, and those which had yet to join the completed stack.

Bubba shifted his hips in a not-so-subtle attempt to thrust further into you. You flattened your hands atop the table, steadying and grounding yourself. You took a deep breath, trying desperately to ignore the pleasure welling in your core.

“Bubba?”

He whined, thinking you were going to put a stop to the intimacy.

“If we’re going to do this, we gotta make it quick. I have to finish folding the laundry before Drayton gets back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	9. Day 8: Wax Play (Wraith)

You hissed as hot wax dripped onto your chest and collar bones. The room around you was entirely dark, blackened like a new moon. The only light glowed dimly from a solitary flame and the luminescent glow of Philip’s monochromatic eyes. His hips pounded into your own relentlessly, unceasing in his endeavor to fuck you senseless.

You pressed your hands to his chest, inhaling sharply when the melting wax began to drip down your fingers and arms. The heat of it bit at your flesh. You clenched around him and reveled in the animalistic growl it drew. He held you in place with an uncharacteristic ferocity, the tree bark texture of his rough skin rasping against your soft hips. 

As he thrust into you harder, faster, more wax spilled across your bare chest. You cried out, your vocalization a blended exultation of pleasure and a wail of pain. You saw his mouth curl into a snarl and wondered briefly if he would bite you, dangerous teeth glinting in the candlelight.

You weren’t used to him like this. You were more accustomed to the Philip that held you close and carressed you sweetly. You knew him, knew the way he curled around you with the moon bearing witness. Here in this dark place, with his light as the lone illumination, he was nearly a stranger.

You would have been lying if you said it wasn’t exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	10. Day 9: Consensual Non-Consent (Frank)

Your lungs burned as you pushed yourself to run. Faster. Faster!

You felt almost out of control as you fled through the trees, frantic feet kicking up snow in your wake. Adrenaline pounded through your veins, numbing the exhaustion that weighed your body down. You weren’t sure how long you had been running for. Minutes? Hours? Time wasn’t right here.

You heard the heavy breathing of your pursuer, hunting you through the cold and gaining by the second. He was faster than you, it was only a matter of time before he caught up to you. You felt like he was breathing down your neck already. The phantom sensation of his hot breath drew goosebumps across your sweaty skin.

You could do nothing but shriek as the hunter on your heels reached out and took a handful of your coat, halting your escape and pushing you into the snowy ground.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” Frank rasped in your ear.

You whimpered, tears springing to your eyes. You repeated your safeword in your head like a mantra, knowing you could call this off at any time. You had wanted this. Wanted him to run you down and scare you, to take you hard and fast. You wanted him to be brutal.

You felt his hands gripping your hips, dragging you backwards until you were on your knees. You felt the blunt edge of his knife against the heated skin of your back followed by the tearing of fabric as he cut through your pants. The torn shreds pooled around your knees and soaked up melted snow. He didn’t even bother to remove your underwear, merely pushed them to the side before shoving two dirty, bloodied fingers inside of you. It hurt. It hurt so badly, and you wailed.

“C’mon, you can take more than that,” he mocked, thrusting his digits in and out of your screaming body.

His other hand disappeared from your hip, which would have given you the opportunity to scramble away and run had you had a mind to. You heard the sound of his zipper and your heart leapt. He withdrew his fingers and you whimpered until you felt the head of his cock prod at your folds. He took hold of your hips again, wiping your own slick across your skin.

He drove himself into you without warning, giving you no time to adjust before he set into a brutal pace. He fisted one hand in your hair, yanking your head back. You stared up at the speckles of grey sky you could see through the boughs of the trees, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. It was too much, too real. It hurt, but it was  _ good _ . 

“Admit it,” Frank’s voice was heavy and labored. “You wanted this. You wanted to be hunted down and fucked raw.”

You choked out a sob that he took as confirmation.

He brushed his mouth over your shoulder and neck. “Don’t worry, I’m going to give you everything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


	11. Day 10: Double Penetration (Freddy)

You had thought Freddy was plenty insufferable on his own. He had enough ego, enough bawdy humor and rude comments, enough…  _ personality _ all by himself. So now, sandwiched between two of the striped sweater and fedora wearing dream demon, you were completely at a loss for what to do.

“Ah, Freddy!”

They thrust into you in perfect tandem, hitting spots inside of you that you hadn’t even known you had. You were a mess of sweat and drool, your mind was little more than a staticky haze, pierced by bolts of pleasure with every movement. Two sets of hands explored your trembling body-- grabbing, pinching, bruising. Bite marks littered your chest and shoulders, wonderfully tender and aching.

The Freddy behind you purred into your ear, “I know three’s a crowd.”

“But two is better than one,” The one in front of you finished.

You weren’t sure which one was the real Freddy. Maybe they both were, possibly neither. It would be just like him to look on as two mirror images of himself railed into you ceaselessly and without mercy. You could picture the lazily cruel smile that would split his burnt features while he palmed his own cock, listening to the soundtrack of your garbled moans and the carnal sounds of sex. Nothing got him off faster than toying with you and turning you into a unrepentantly debauched muddle of ecstasy.

You cried out, voice threadbare and strained as you crested another peak in the unending circuit of being stuffed to capacity. You heard the buzz of Freddy’s mocking voice on either side of you, but you were too far gone to process what was said. You knew one thing for sure though, he wouldn’t be letting up on you any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
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	12. Days 11 & 13: Knives and Thigh Riding (Pig)

Buzzing fluorescent lights bathed your surroundings in a sickly, greenish yellow pallor. The cold floor of the Gideon Meat Plant was sticky against the bare skin of your back. You would hate to conjecture what exactly the tacky substance was, luckily you had much more pressing matters to occupy your thoughts.

The sharp edge of a blade pressed to your throat was the foremost of these pressing matters. The second, the woman straddling your hips. Amanda, like you, was completely naked with the exception of that damned pig head. You wanted to tear it from her, to rip it away so that you could see her face. You wanted her to kiss you.

But what you wanted was of no importance. You were not the one in control here.

As if sensing your thoughts, Amanda pressed the knife a little harder against your neck. You couldn’t withhold the pained hiss that tore itself from you as the steel bit into your delicate skin. Blood welled in the narrow cut, beading and dripping to spill in scarlet lines. Still, neither of you spoke a word. You could not find her eyes behind the facade of the pig’s face, but you knew she was watching you, waiting for you to make a move. You wondered if she would even hesitate to slice your throat if you did.

She slid down your body, never withdrawing the knife, until the heat of her sex was centered over the expanse of your thigh. Slowly, she sat down against you, bringing her slickened folds directly into contact with your skin. She rolled her hips slowly as first, testing out the feeling before becoming more aggressive with her motions. You could do nothing but watch the rhythms of her body with a burning fascination.

Experimentally, you lifted your leg just the barest fraction of an inch to press more firmly against her. The quiet, stifled moan you received in response sparked a fire in your core. There was little time to celebrate the crack you had caused in her composure before the knife was biting into your throat even more dangerously. You could feel the dangerous energy crackling off of her.

“Sit still,” she ordered.

You obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


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